


In Tune

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [544]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: F/M, rarepairathon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 03:35:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14155752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: thebaconsandwichofregret askedrare pair, your faves! Virgil and Kayo





	In Tune

“I can’t believe I’m dating a man who plays the banjo.”

“Badly,” Virgil said, one piece of straw off becoming a Kansas stereotype.  He bent over the tuning nobs, fiddling with some nuance that, to Kayo’s tin ear, didn’t make a lick of difference.  “I play the banjo badly. Did you know,” he added, frowning at the neckboard. “That the banjo is considered, along with the violin and the bagpipes, to be the worst instrument in the world to hear a learner play?”

Kayo coughed to cover her laugh.  “So you chose to bring it along on our weekend away.  Nice, real nice.”

Virgil grinned at her and began to pick, making it look easy and fluid as he coaxed a tune out of the battered instrument.  The new strings gleamed against the age-darkened body.  “Well, I needed something to do while my girlfriend mocked my lifelong ambitions.”  He played a little flourish before returning to the beat.  “Granddad used to play like he’d sold his soul to the devil.”  Another light lick.  “That’s my first memory, actually.  In the kitchen, in the farmhouse, sun pouring in low through the window and grandpa at the table just messing around.”  Virgil’s bare heel began to thump on the warped wooden porch boards.  “Singing made up love songs to grandma.”

Kayo could picture the scene, down to the dishes draining on the sideboard and the faded curtains billowing in an unremembered breeze.  “Are you going to serenade me with a song?” she asked, only half-teasing.

Virgil smiled at her, soft and low.  “I was hoping you would.”

That made Kayo snort.  “You’re the musical one,” she said dismissively, arms folded as she tossed her loose hair back.

The banjo hummed as Virgil lifted it up and held it clear.  “Wanna learn?  Come on, come here.”  

Kayo let herself be coaxed in, her back to his chest.  The banjo settled awkwardly against her thigh, a bare bone of a thing.  Virgil’s fingers were calloused from more than just strings as he pressed the pick onto her, showed her how to hold it.  “C, and D, and G, and A,” he murmured as pointed to each string in turn, his voice a warm rumble in her ear.

“I’m not going to remember that,” she admitted, trying to push the pick back to Virgil.

He caught her fingers and pressed them back to the strings, his other hand forming a chord around the neck.  “Just do this.”

Kayo bit her lip as Virgil helped her coax a melody out of the old instrument.  Her heart skipped a counterbeat when he began to sing along, a low rumble in his chest and his lips against her hair.  “You were dressed in blue and you looked so lovely, just a gentle flower of a small-town girl. You took my hand and we stepped to the music, and with a single smile, you became my world.”

Kayo carefully took the instrument, making sure it was propped safely against the railings of the porch.  She then turned and pounced, pushing Virgil back onto his back.

Behind her, she heard the strings shimmer a major chord and fall quiet.


End file.
